The Watcher

 




they say the world might be coming to an end
but someone waited the hole day for that time,
that place in silence and smoke.
 
and there's a bomb ready to explode
in a desert in Libya, in a basement near Russia,
civil war in every corner of Africa, floods near Fargo,
the Red River Rage.
 
Japan is covered in a nuclear dust while the earth shakes
and tornados sweep ghost towns out of the globe.
 
but there's a drunk man walking the streets downtown,
early in the morning, and there's women in trains
that look tougher than life, tired, sick from waiting
and never having.
 
and there's a lot of talk about money
and unhappiness, all these people coming up and
down the roads, looking back filled with remorse
and regret, dreaming of a better life that could never happen.
 
but the B-doubles keep snaking through the freeways anyway, through corpses
of dead animals, dead dreams of the loneliest days
the world have ever seen.
 
wasteland have mercy on us all,
humans with no humanity left,
no heart, no love, no joy. everything as empty as that
blank look in our eyes, a mad world reflected in our guts,
our lungs long lost in lies.